Tōshirō, You Are An Idiot
by dragonfly360
Summary: Contains Tōshirō acting like an idiot and Karin hitting him for it. Collection of unrelated HitsuKarin one-shots/ficlets with varying themes and genres. Used to be "That's gonna hurt" Rated for safety and language.
1. That's Gonna Hurt

Hello! This is a plot bunny drabble I thought of. Lolol, I had a good time writing this. Enjoy!

Summary: Hitsugaya is now staying in Karin's room when he has missions in Karakura. 'I should really knock...'

Disclaimer: I do not own. Yet.

It's a nice room, one I vaguely remember from before when it was still Ichigo's, the time I refused to climb out of a light fixture in the ceiling. Back then the walls were a plain white, the floor wooden, the bed cover blue with a white cross, the desk a quite pale wooden colour...

Now, the walls are still white, but they're covered in posters, be it famous soccer players, one of some big cats, and another on how to play poker. The furniture hasn't been rearranged, the bed is still under the window, next to the desk, with the television stand filled with books opposite. The bed cover is red, as are the curtains. The desk is the same, and the wardrobe doors are make-shift corkboards. On the floor is a stripy rug, positioned in front of the bed but a little away from the desk chair.

Karin herself has just stopped in front of one of the wardrobe doors, and she pulls it open, dropping the towel she was previously holding around herself.

Something occurs to Hitsugaya Tōshirō, 10th Captain of the Gotei 13, as he perches on the windowsill of said room.

Karin has curves, noticeable ones.

And nice legs.

Nice chest.

Hips...

Very nice curves.

Hitsugaya puts a hand to his nose, trying to stem the bleeding as he falls over backwards. The falling part helped more.

_'I should really knock...'_

Karin turns at a thump sounding outside her window. Quickly slipping on a long T-shirt, one of the many she wears to bed, and shorts; she climbs on all fours onto her bed to look out the open window. She pauses as she remembers closing it, and then she shrugs and decides she's getting old already. Finally poking her head out, she sees a bloody heap outside her window. It has white hair. She sighs as she deduces what happened.

All those long years of hiding, all ruined.

Most people think Karin is a tomboy not because she's not girly, but because she has boyish features and knows it, and that her father and brother influenced her greatly when she was growing up.

They're wrong.

Karin was as girly as any girl, until her mother died. Then she decided to change, to seem uncaring and tough so no-one would worry about her personal troubles. Over the years she gradually became the tomboy, becoming a fanatic of sports, soccer in particular, learning how to give a mean kick and hating anything pink or glittery. She was, therefore, annoyed when her body shape began to change. She tightly wove bandages over her chest to get them out of the way, and she wore loose clothes that could be a guy's, which hid her figure. She especially stuck to this after her guy friends (not that she has girlfriends, apart from Tatsuki and Yuzu) decided to mention this topic the one time she wore a lower cut tank top.

And now Tōshirō has seen her naked.

Karin doesn't care so much that he did, she knows he would never deliberately spy on her, but now he won't be able to look at her straight for ages.

She sighs and quietly leaves her room, climbing out of the window and landing on the bit of her roof under her window, then jumping down next to the captain, putting his arm over her shoulders and jumping back into her room, albeit with a little more effort.

I don't say anything as her head appears, still too shocked and embarrassed.

_'I hope she doesn't kick me...'_

Quite surprisingly, she makes her way down and brings me back up to her room, leaving me sitting on her bed as she makes a quick trip to the bathroom to get me a roll of tissue paper. Without causing me any major internal bleeding.

And yes, an entire roll.

It will be necessary, I'm ashamed to admit.

She hands it to me and sits down at her desk, pulling her books towards her as she starts some geometry homework.

"Sorry for ...appearing at a bad time."

I mutter, glad she's turned away from me.

"Bad time for you or me?"

She asks, sounding amused.

I know that I'll stutter if I even try to say something, so I keep quiet and try to banish the not-so-innocent thoughts and images that formed in my mind.

After a while I deem it safe to answer coherently and with an actual response.

"For me, I think. For you, too, if you think so."

She stops moving and turns to look at me, her face evil looking.

"Well, little taichou," She stands up, ignoring my annoyance at the nickname, and makes her way over to me, "I would say..." she climbs onto the bed, loose shirt showing more than it should as she crawls closer. The rest of her sentence falls upon deaf ears as I look away.

_'Do _not_ blush, don't, don't, that's what she wants...'_

It would be perfect if I could look at her without being affected, but I don't think that's possible.

I'm forced to as she leans around me, having to press herself against me and place her hands on my legs so she won't fall off the bed. I glance at her and then stubbornly carry on glaring at the wall.

"Oi oi, don't ignore me, Tōshirō-chan!"

I turn to glare at her, and say something about that nickname (sounds far too much like Shiro-chan...).

She places a kiss on my lips, meeting my rapidly melting glare with an amused and mischievous glance, before closing her eyes. I sigh, opening my mouth as I do so, which she casually takes advantage of.

"Karin-chan! It's time for dinner!"

She breaks away.

"Coming, Yuzu!"

"Hey, while you're waiting you can do my homework for me, O Short Prodigal One."

With that last lovely comment as she closes the door after her and goes down to eat, I sit myself in her swively black chair. Picking up her ruler, I think for a second that she should have already done this, and then I get to work.

My family now ask no questions when I take my third and fourth helpings up to my room.

The first time I did it after Tōshirō explained to me that when you're a spirit, the more reiatsu you have, the more food you need. It didn't really surprise me, after all I've seen Yoruichi in action.

Yuzu knew from the very beginning. We have no secrets, everything is shared between us. Although I know not to go on too much about my favourite sportsmen and she definitely knows not to even mention make-up, boys, or clothes. Although after the secret (at least from Ichigo, I'd know if he knew) visits began, boys isn't a topic I avoid so much anymore. I explained to her when she came into my room to ask if anything was wrong. Tōshirō climbed onto the windowsill and, after introducing himself, explained, much like he had to me, and asked her if it was okay. Of course, now we always have enough for another person.

Isshin asked the first time, where I told him I wanted to eat in my room because it's away from him. This just set him off on a crying spree. The next time he also asked, adding a comment about whether or not I have a secret pet or friend that ran away from home hiding in my room. He then started crying again, saying that he wouldn't mind a pet so long as I looked after it myself and that he would love to have another daughter. He didn't suggest that it may be a guy. Being far too close to the truth anyway, I dropkicked him and denied both claims. He now doesn't ask. I assume he thinks I'm a growing girl that needs more food.

Ichigo was the hardest to convince, relatively. Having had Rukia in his room, he recognised a few signs, but when he snuck in at two in the morning there wasn't anyone else there (he checked under my bed and in the closet). He then left quietly, unaware that the person in question who he was looking for was just outside the window and that I was awake and watching him. To get back at him, I put slugs in his bed (his room is now the attic) and in his underwear draw. Of course, I took the slugs out so he had no idea what the slimy tracks were. He tried following me up to my room, but all he found was me eating the food I had taken that day, and my foot to his face for coming in without knocking. He then gave up, forgetting about it and accepting it as normal.

Carefully holding the tray of food, I open my door with my foot, close it by kicking it hard, and walk over to my desk, where my Shinigami boyfriend is diligently finishing my English homework.

Oh, the joys of dating a child prodigy.

Okay, he's probably over ten times older than me and he's not human, but oh well. It's part of the package. There's worse.

He pushes the now finished essay away, thanking me for the food and digging in.

I go over what he's done, and marvel at the fact that he's managed to perfectly copy my writing. After checking that everything is done (the entire thing in half an hour, damnit I wish I could do that) I flop onto my bed and roll over, reaching under my pillow for my book.

I manage to read about one page before I hear the bowl being set down. I turn to look at him, raising an eyebrow. He blinks innocently. I roll my eyes and lower my leg to kick the bed with my foot. He understands and comes to lie down next to me, arms behind his head.

"So, what news this time?"

"Nothing really happened today, Hollows appeared because your genius of a brother is still training and therefore showcasing his reiatsu, and we eliminated them, and did nothing all day."

"I have to go high school, that's so annoying. You just make your gigai sit there and look bored."

"Bored? Not look smart, handsome _and_ bored?"

He glances sideways at me, and I smirk at him.

"Nope. Just a bored-looking short middle-schooler with weird hair."

"Oi!"

He turns towards me and pushes me, making me fall onto my side and the book land somewhere on the bed. He places his elbows on either side of my head and glares down at me. Then he smirks.

"You're calling _me _a middle-schooler? I'm taller than you now."

Having spent so much time in the real world, he's getting affected by the spirit particles and regular intakes of food, or so he guesses. I personally think that puberty (along with hormones and growth spurts) finally kicked in. The first month he started staying, there wasn't much difference, but now, four years later, he's grown at least eight or so inches. I've only grown six inches.

Of course, so much time spent didn't go unnoticed. Yamamoto himself asked to privately talk with Tōshirō. He was told of our relationship and asked for his permission to continue. Surprisingly, he was allowed (Tōshirō would've come anyway, I think). The general said it was because I'm not entirely human, and because I'm a Kurosaki, and other things like that.

I think he just wanted me to get that stick removed from Tōshirō's ass.

When he came down for his mission, another one about elevated Hollow presence (like the one he's on now, reason why he came so early), guess who caused _that_, he finally got tired of having to stay with Orihime. When I met him I said that he could stay here. I prodded and poked and used my undeniable logic to sway him, and he finally agreed to stay in my closet. He was even more pleased to find out I was already in Ichigo's old room, and he now had a spacious closet, which wasn't shared with Yuzu. After a few months of more missions of the same vein (I think he deliberately asked for more), we finally started dating. Shortly after he moved out of the closet and started sleeping on my bed, although over the covers. That was almost a year ago now.

Tōshirō leans in and kisses me, and I just know my knees are turning into yellow. I mean, jelly.

Don't ask.

And don't even mention that that was a girly, clichéd, overused line. I know already! Doesn't change the fact that it's still true.

We're right in the middle of something that no-one should see, especially the males of my family, when we're interrupted.

"Karin-chan."

Yuzu says as she knocks and comes in, luckily she's staring down at the bowl in her hands. Then she looks up, and she starts gasping and blushing and stammering.

"S-Sorry! I just wanted to give you dessert!"

She starts bowing in apology, when Tōshirō interrupts her.

"It's okay, Yuzu."

"Yeah, at least you knocked."

I add as Tōshirō gets up to take the bowl. Yuzu smiles at him, somewhat apprehensively, and picks up the tray on the desk.

"Don't worry, I won't even accidentally think of it. But Karin-chan, what were you saying about knocking?"

She asks innocently as she turns and heads for the door.

"Oh, that. Tōshirō didn't knock and came in when I was naked."

I raise a hand to my head to scratch my neck and apologise as Yuzu stumbles so badly she nearly trips. Tomato red, she leaves the room, closing the door after her. Tōshirō is still standing in the middle of my room, a hand covering his face, the other holding the bowl.

"Was that the best thing to say?"

I shrug. "Now she knows we're together."

He sighs, resists mentioning that she _already_ knew that (I can tell by his face), and comes over, handing me the bowl, sitting down next to me.

I look happily upon the homemade apple crumble with custard and quickly shove in a few bites. Tōshirō looks at me sideways, and raises an eyebrow. I lift a hand and push his head. Then I take a spoonful and hold it up to him. He looks at me like my mind left me all alone a while ago.

"Yuzu made enough for both of us."

He hesitantly leans in a tries it, glaring at me when I move the spoon around a little. I grin and eventually let him try it, but only once he's harrumphed and gotten childish (how I get my kicks).

"It's nice."

He says, and I smile smugly.

"You have good taste."

He rolls his eyes and takes the spoon from me as I try to have the last bite. I glare at him, but he seems unfazed.

He does, however, regret it later when I tell him he'll be sleeping in the closet tonight.

Merely eight minutes since I went to bed, the closet door opens and he steps out, coming to stand next to me anyway, silently asking for permission to get on the bed (he knows from previous experience that he'll get kicked to the floor if he doesn't). After a second's consideration, I shrug inwardly. I don't say anything but I lift the covers and he slips underneath them, putting his arms around me.

We stay like that until morning.

Unfortunately, it's now Monday, and we have school. He leaves to get his gigai from Orihime's and returns, waiting on the windowsill until I'm ready. When I leave the building with Yuzu, he jumps down next to me, and we walk together to school.

Yuzu is still blushing and can't look at either of us.

"Oh dear..."

I mutter to Toushirou, and he gives me an 'I told you so' look.

I just whack him over the head with my school bag.

He curses at me and I smirk. He then places an arm around my waist, and I turn to ask what he's doing, when I'm hoisted onto his shoulder.

"Hitsugaya Tōshirō! _Put_ – _me_ – _down_ – _right_ – _now_!" I shout, punctuating my sentence with more hits to the head.

He ignores me and carries me all the way to the front doors. Before he sets me down I give him one last hit, and then glare at him before surreptitiously looking around.

Every single person is staring at us, with most of the girls giggling behind their hands, whispering god knows what, and the guys nudging each other and chuckling. And every single one of them probably saw underneath my ridiculously short skirt. I knew I should have ignored the principal and carried on wearing the guy's uniform.

I turn and go inside, hearing Tōshirō follow, and to his evident surprise, I talk to him as if nothing happened.

I smirk evilly on the inside.

Forget the closet, he'll be sleeping outside tonight.

There you go, more HitsuKarin goodness. I hope you enjoyed. Must be going now, chocolate awaits...


	2. You Left Me You Idiot

You see, I was listening to a depressing song, and I realised that I had never done an even somewhat angsty HitsuKarin. But there's also fluff and humour, so hopefully those of you who read won't be disappointed by what is the opposite of what I usually write... To avoid confusion, anything in italics but not in brackets is a flashback, and thing in italics and brackets is a thought, and anything in italics and underlined is something written down.

Enjoy! ^^

Summary: He left. And she really, really hates him now. HitsuKarin. One-shot. Angst-ish.

Warning: infrequent strong language

Disclaimer: I don't own.

OoOoOoOoO

A long time.

It's been such a long time. I know I'm staring and I know he knows that, but he won't meet my eyes. Because of guilt? Shame? Embarrassment? Denial? Sadness? Hate? To ignore me? Regret? Surprise? Disgust? ...To make _me_ feel such, perhaps. (I imagine he thinks I certainly deserve it in that twisted mind of his, although I am inclined to disagree.)

Because he won't? Because he can't?

I don't know. I really just don't know him anymore. I sometimes wonder if I ever really did... Or maybe I only trusted him too much and hoped for what I now know is obviously impossible.

(_I just expected too much._)

Someone brushes against my arm, my elbow, quite lightly, but it's enough to make me blink and look away. I don't blush in embarrassment or try to sneak more peeks at him slyly, like I know Yuzu would (no matter what he did. She forgives too easily). I don't run over to him and slam him into a wall, screaming almost incoherently, like Ichigo (and maybe Goat-face Isshin) would. In fact, if it was anyone else or I was asking for a different explanation (or just looking for a chance to deck them for what they did) I would do the same as the males of my family.

(_...Actually, if they were here I wouldn't be surprised if they did that for me._)

But when it comes to _him_... I really could not care less. Sure, I did a double take at the familiar form and I did gasp a little under my breath when I realised that it definitely was him… But that doesn't mean anything.

Stupid heartless bastard. And I really thought _he_ cared. Honestly, I should have known that he would leave (_me_). He was never one to break rules. But he was willing to bend them, for a little while. But of course, his Soutaicho tells him how high and he jumps. The second that _other_ cold heartless bastard found out he ordered him to go back and never come to visit me again, and he just followed orders and did so.

Not even a goodbye.

No explanation. No hesitation. Not even for a second did he consider staying or trying to arrive to a compromise. He just left. Went for the meeting and never came back. I only found out because of his lieutenant.

(_I haven't seen her for ages either, I guess I should start calling her by her last name... if I ever see her again._)

And she only managed to slip away after the tight watch on her captain and his subordinates had been lifted slightly. She sneaked back with help from Ukitake, Rukia, and surprisingly enough Kuchiki. (Even though he seems like a cold hearted bastard also, she explained that although he jumps at how high even if he doesn't always like it, he knows that if it comes to love... If, for example, Hisana had been human, he would have stayed with her, no matter the cost. He thinks it is the one thing more important than the rules. Funnily enough, for some strange reason, I like him.)

She had only managed to stay long enough to explain what had happened.

_She is smiling sadly at my shocked expression. She stops when it turns angry, and upset. Now it just looks guilty, and I look down, not finding it in me to say it's not her fault. She stands and walks over to the doorway. I barely even notice her movement. She turns back and looks at me, eyes almost crying, making me finally concentrate on her and not other matters (for which I am more than a little grateful)._

_"I want you to know, Karin-chan, that I wasn't sent here by Taichou at all. He was told not to contact you, to not even think of you, and I'm sure he listened when Soutaichou threatened to revoke his captaincy." She smiles bitterly, looking down in shame. "I would like to apologise for him, but I won't, because I truly believe that for once, he is wrong," She looks up again, eyes fierce, "You have every right to hate him. And for a while, I will too. And he'll know that, I'm sure. We're not allowed to talk about you, of course, but I'll make sure he understands._

_"...Is there anything you would like me to tell him, from you?"_

_I glare at the wall, wishing I could burn holes in it. I swallow, clearing my throat and my thoughts._

_"There are many things I would like to say to him," I speak softly, despite my anger. "Some more important and less petty than others… Asking you to tell him he's a stupid idiot that should be drowned in his own spit is hardly going to help," She smiles, and I just know that however she gets my point across, she's going to add that onto the end. "But I think that he should know..."_

_I take a deep breath, steeling myself to say it. To admit it._

_"He made me cry. And I won't forgive him for that. He doesn't deserve it."_

_I look up at her, pleading with my eyes for her to understand all the things that I'm trying to say with only a few simple words, but it's groundless. She smiles, watery, understanding, sisterly and motherly, and I think it's a good thing she didn't give me a hug because I know it would have been so hard to let go._

_She disappears and I finally let myself cry, just one more time._

I was left to try to piece my (now-normal-with-no-afterlife-rubbish) life back together, with a vital part missing. He was important to me, so important to me, and I let him in. He wanted that, he let himself become irreplaceable.

I hate him. I love him. I long for him to just _look at me!_ I loathe the idea of having to talk to him. I'm glad that his lieutenant offered to be my voice box, I know I could never have done it myself. I would've broken down and started crying and screaming because he let me... he _made_ me feel again. I cried so easily. The tears just kept on falling, I felt like Alice in freaking Wonderland. I never even got angry, not until I was told what had happened.

(_Wasn't what I thought had happened at all... I thought you died, you bastard... I was crying _for _you_)

After that, I can't seem to cry anymore. I still get angry, (especially when thinking of him, which is often, I admit) and with a select few I still laugh and smile. I still live. I've had loves after him, but not a single one... completed me like he did. They didn't change me, didn't make me feel as much as he did. I tried to live as Yuzu does, just without the dresses or the many girly girlfriends or household duties or the just plain sweetness that is my little twin sister, but it didn't really work.

But there have been some positive affects (I think anyway).

Whenever another love ends, or I lose another irreplaceable, or something really bad happens, when others cry because of it, I don't. I'm stronger. I do, or did, better in my studies because of fewer distractions (no more boys climbing in through my window and keeping me up all night, no siree). I got closer to the people that comforted me: I'm pretty sure Ichigo had a word with said idiotic bastard the next time he went to Seretei. Yuzu and I are almost inseparable. Even Isshin seems less annoying. I didn't get nicer in general to the people around me, the complete opposite, but most welcomed the change back to the old me. I got more friends, and those that already were, even if they didn't have the faintest idea what had happened, were just glad I could play soccer with them again. And I didn't play with people who always beat me. Helped my self-confidence, even if only a little (a thing I needed).

But I digress, back to the present (which technically doesn't actually exist but that's for a time when I feel like having another lengthy conversation with my poetic friend Kon).

I eye him, and I know my gaze is accusing and longing and hating but mainly thoughtful. He's barely visible behind a couple not-so-spaciously distanced from one another as they talk into each other's ears. The lighting arrangements don't help, it's just dark enough for everything to seem fuzzy. I can only see his head and a little of his neck, so I'm unsure as to whether he's in Shinigami form or gigai. I watch as his head slowly, ever so slowly, starts turning. It's in the wrong direction and down, to look even further away from me, but it casts away any doubts of him unaware of me and my eyes on him.

It also brings a sword hilt into view, meaning I'm the only human in here that can see him. I turn back around and lean on the bar. Twirling the umbrella around in my drink, I stab the sharp end into the rather large piece of pineapple that's part of my low in alcohol content, colourful, basically-fruit-with-some-vodka cocktail. Chewing slowly and in contemplation, I start to ponder. I'm here, he's here. Why is he here? I know why I'm here (I think).

Damn Urahara. Telling me to have a night out or a night in his basement. Before I start vaguely planning to go down that road, I know he didn't plan this, even if he wanted to and had ideas, he would never actually set them in motion. I guess I could call him friend, even if he'll never say the same seriously (but his actions are enough for me to feel confident). And he didn't know I'd decide to come here anyway (the fact that there aren't exactly very many clubs in Karakura and that everyone who knows I only go to this one is irrelevant).

That means this rather irritating and convenient situation is either, A, coincidence, or B, someone planned it.

Option A. He just wandered into the Living World, chose his old hangout, and then decided to come to this particular club.

Right.

Option B. Someone told him I'd be here? Nah, I don't think that would work (definitely not). He's probably here because of some reason other than me. The one who planned all this? Or perhaps a co-conspirator. Or, he was told a white lie so he would come here. Probable.

So what do I do?

Immediately a little voice pops up.

(_Do? You don't have to _do_ anything. Let the asshole know you still think he's scum. He doesn't deserve your time, and going over there would be wasting it._)

And that leaves...

(_Not doing anything at all about this, and just letting things unravel._)

Sounds good. Means that is very likely I won't have to be in a ten feet radius of him. I highly doubt that he will seek me out. So if I do nothing, we will have to wait for some... divine intervention (!).

(_I don't want to look towards him. What if he's here _with_ someone? ...Doesn't matter. I don't care, I wouldn't even be envious. I would pity them, especially if she's human... Huh, maybe he's homosexual. As long as it's not someone I know, he's welcome to any of the other guys around here._)

I would have liked to add on a name at the end, of a boyfriend or crush, but as of last month, I have none. It was good while it lasted, but he was developing feelings for someone else. I ended it gently before I found him cheating. In _my _bed. Like-

Ah, let's stop there.

I glance at my wrist, taking in the time on my slim, pretty, borrowed-from-Yuzu watch. I think leaving at three in the morning isn't too bad, right? Yuzu left a while ago... And I've been here since twelve.

A little thought winds up pushing to the front of my mind.

(_Has he been here from the start? Did he know before I did?_)

Again, it doesn't matter either way I suppose. Whether he showed up ten minutes ago when I spotted him, or he arrived before I did or while I was here, he either didn't know I was here, or he did and chose to do nothing. _Quelle surprise_.

"Stupid bastard."

I mutter lowly as I down the rest of my drink, not looking towards that particular spot.

"Idiotic cold-hearted asshole."

OoOoOoOoO

Leaving the packed club is taking a little while. I know my way around but it's a Saturday, and due to its popularity, it can be expected that you can't take one pace without bumping into someone. Luckily when I last looked, the very last (or very first) person I want to bump into is on the other side of the dance floor.

Finally getting outside, I take a deep breath of relatively clean air.

I congratulate myself on my earlier choice of selecting the two-inch heeled boots, rather than the four-inch strappy shoes Yuzu offered, which even I knew suited my pathetically skimpy outfit better. At least I didn't choose a skirt. Just tight jean shorts and a black tank top which may or may not end above my bellybutton or have stylish slits all over the back. I put on some jewellery, but no make-up apart from lip-gloss and I don't have any piercings anyway so none of that. I have a purse, with a wallet, my keys, mobile phone, the lip-gloss and pepper spray, for the peace of mind of a certain over-protective brother. He knows... actually, we both know I can take care of myself perfectly. Well, I might break a nail accidentally if I break a nose or get someone in a headlock, but that's inevitable really and quite a small price to pay.

It's easier to kick them. Or stamp on their toes. Dirty, maybe, but it works.

Slinging the long strap of my previously mentioned purse over my shoulder, I start walking in a fairly straight line back towards the clinic, almost wincing and thinking I should have put plasters on my feet. I shiver and wish I had thought to bring a jacket.

And the darkness, the lack of people...

It makes me feel so alone. Like I'm the only person left in the world. Like everyone has left me.

(_Not everyone, just somebody who was probably the most important and the closest to my scarily empty heart._)

I get a little paranoid sometimes. I sank into a depression after he left. It may not have taken me years to get out of it, but it had lasting effects. I'm highly unstable, apparently, I have anger management problems (not even I can try to blame those on someone other than myself, but I didn't say that to my 'the rapist'), I have bouts of severe apathy and detachment. I get panic attacks. For a little while, I even had trouble sleeping. Nightmares, of warm darkness closing in on me, hiding demons and angels and monsters... And the ever present nothingness which threatens to swallow me up.

All his fault.

And I can't...

Mainly I'm hating him, but underneath I'm always loving him constantly. Like the bottom of the sea. It doesn't change, and while it may be dark, it's quiet and calm and peaceful and to live there must feel so right. The surface has storms, and boats and currents and many creatures, so it's never still. While I'm hating him, or thinking about that aspect of my feelings towards him, a hidden, quieter part of me is wishing I could see him one last time. One part of me hates myself for that. Another also wants to see him, but only so I can confront him face to face and make him feel all the shame and guilt and regret he _fucking_ deserves to. Another part cowers at the very idea of confronting him. A larger part wants him to come back, but an even larger section of my heart just wants to _forget_.

I sigh.

Looking up, I see the familiar sign of the clinic.

I knew, somehow, that I would never move away. Even after Isshin retired, and stayed, that wasn't a good enough reason to go. Ichigo left, a long time ago now, moving to Tokyo and the bustling, bright, populated hugeness of the largest city in the world. I miss my brother, but... (_not as much as I do -did, damn it, did!- him, so it's okay. I can deal_). Yuzu didn't leave, or, she hasn't yet. (I'm just waiting patiently for her to move into Urahara's. Honestly, even a tomboy like me knows that that red-haired brat is in love with her.) So I stayed at the clinic, Yuzu stayed in our old room and Goaty kept his. I moved into Ichigo's.

(_Because he would look in Yuzu's room, and because he knows the way to both._)

Everything I do seems to be about him in some way. Sometimes I try to rationalize, and say it's because I hate him. I'm only doing it because I hate him.

I'll stay in Karakura, he'll think I've gone so he won't look here. Ichigo's room, he won't know. I'll cut my hair really short, shorter than before, he'll probably think I'm a guy. I'll go to the fair, I still haven't won that stupid toy perfect for tearing to pieces. I'll have watermelon again, just to spite him. Keep those football shoes just so I can kick him in the face with them. Keep the signed tee so I can burn it while he's watching. I'll drink green tea to remember how much I hate it.

But every time, I can think of a much more plausible reason, and I know that I'm just making sad, obvious excuses _(and that god damn it you asshole I miss you)_.

I'll stay in Karakura, so he knows where to find me. Ichigo's room, he knows where the window is. I'll cut my hair really short because he likes short hair. I'll go to the fair, we always used to try and win that huge stuffed dragon teddy. I'll have watermelon again, because it's what he perpetually ate. Keep those football shoes because they're his size too. Keep the signed tee because it smells of him. I'll drink green tea to remember how much he loves it.

In another time the memories surfacing might have made me cry, but instead I just stare at the front door, expressionless. I shake my head and then reach for my keys. Opening in the door I blink in the darkness and deduce that everyone must have gone to bed already. I reach for the light at my left as I step inside. Looking down, I carefully take off Yuzu's lent footwear and place them to the right, next to her own. Which are next to some ratty trainers that look familiar... So that's who she met at the club! I should've known... I chuckle breathily and shake my head. Finally. Turning as I close the door, I stop and stare. What was that? I shake my head again negatively and close the door with a soft _click_.

And I stare again.

Because there's a note and I would recognise that writing style anywhere. It's old-fashioned somehow, tiny and neat, looking perfect enough for it to be done by a computer.

_Kurosaki Karin_

My right hand lifts up, then drops back down. I grimace and form a fist. I breathe out and then reach up again, damning myself for having shaking hands over a stupid note. I pick it off the door, rubbing the little mark the cello tape left from being pulled off. I examine it, passing a finger over my inked name. It smudges a little. So it was written recently.

Suddenly I feel so angry, so so angry at what will be a ''Dear Karin, you stupid human, I apologise so sincerely for abandoning you, 'love' from, Mr. Captain''. What is he thinking, leaving a fucking letter! If he wants to tell me something, or explain or apologise or try to justify his _pathetic _actions, he should say it to my face! Especially if he's here and he saw me and he _knew_ where I was! Am I not worthy of his presence!

Do I not deserve an apology?

And everything changes again and now I only really want to cry. (_I just want to _see _you again... Why? Why did you leave? Do I mean so little to you? ...I'll forgive you if you just _come back_... please?_) My sight gets a little blurry and my eyes start to sting slightly. I stare, eyes not focusing, at the door.

A stupid little letter making me come the closest to crying in years?

Hell no.

My gaze had unconsciously turned into a glare, and I decide to pierce the little piece of folded paper in my hands with it.

I reach up a hand, still focused on the paper and not looking up, and lock the door. Whirling around, trying my hardest to remain angry and not sad, I flick off the lights and continue up in the near total darkness to Ichigo's room. I mean, my room. Dropping the bag I close the door with my foot and then turn on the lamp next to my bed. I sit down slowly, anger dissipating, turning into morbid curiosity. Turning it around, I peel off the tape and unfold it, smoothing it out on my knee.

I'm amazed at the sheer amount of things he managed to squeeze onto such a small piece of paper.

_Karin. Firstly, an apology. I am so, so sorry for what I did. I do not know what you thought happened, but whatever you think and feel of me now, I truly deserve. The first few days (months, really) I could not believe what I had done. Leaving you without a goodbye or even a proper reason for going. I hate myself some days. And then Matsumoto relayed your message, I felt so disgusted with myself. But I cannot help hoping that somehow, someday, you'll forgive me. I know that it is selfish and I do not deserve it, that someone better than I would say that you knowing I'm sorry is enough. For me, it is not. I do not know what you were told by Matsumoto, or what exactly you said to her, or what you would say now, or if you even want to see me again. But I have to ask, to know. Would you be willing to meet me? Perhaps it is too much to ask, but I will wait for you anyway. Love (still), Stupid Cold-hearted Idiotic Bastardly Asshole That Should Be Drowned In His Own Spit._

I'm staring again. And smiling goofily despite myself. I feel a strange emotion rising in my chest. For a second I think it's anger, or sadness. I frown, that's not it. It's something I haven't felt in so long, it takes me a horrifyingly long time to place it.

I'm... happy. So happy because he loves me... and because I'll see him and... because he apologised. And that's really all he needed to do, right from the very start. Even if a part of me is still angry, still thinking defiantly, _No! A letter doesn't make it all better! It's not good enough!_ It's small. So small I'm almost ashamed.

I stand up, dazed and confused. What? I slowly read it again, and everything becomes clear.

A few seconds later I'm downstairs again, shoving my shoes on - the ones he brought me. I throw open the door, pausing for just a second to close it quietly. Then I'm running, letter clutched in one hand, other working furiously to put on the jacket I had the sense to grab before exiting my room. I finally get it on, having crumpled the letter even more in shoving it through the sleeve.

(_I wonder what you look like now..._)

My thoughts whisper to me, every last one of them about him. Why now? Did he -we- finally get permission? Is he here on orders? Has he come _against_ orders? Have they taken away his captaincy? Has he left? Is it just a quick visit? A face-to-face, just like I said I wanted?

Has something happened to make him have to see me now?

Whatever it is, I don't really care.

(_What's going to happen after this? …_What is going to happen after this_? Are you leaving me again? … Oh God..._)

Glancing up, I see where my feet have taken me. The letter never said where we should meet, but I knew from the start (_just like I knew I would forgive you_). I take a right, skidding around the corner. I look up.

He's there. _He's there!_ (and I'm struggling not to smile). Waiting for me, sitting on the railing, as always. For some reason, he's the wrong way around, facing away from where the sky would be, but my mind doesn't linger on that.

From what I can see from this distance (I'm a little short sighted, but no way am I getting glasses), he's in a gigai now, so he probably visited Urahara. He looks taller, and there's no phone in sight; he's got his hands in his pockets. But so many things are almost exactly the same. His half-slouch. The way his hair spikes. He turns his head towards me and even though I've been running for a while, only now does my breath catch.

His eyes.

And suddenly I'm there, in front of him, breathing a little heavily. I thank the lamppost right next to us, because I can see him properly.

My memory hasn't done him justice.

The hair hasn't changed, a part still hanging over his left eye, the rest still anti-gravity. He looks older. Somehow he seems to have aged as much as I have. He stands up quickly, blinking in surprise, and he's an inch taller than me, rather than exactly the same height. He's still slim, his eyes look the same, guarded, apart from a look of guilt and regret showing through.

I can't help but throw my arms around him, and cling onto him, even though half of me is saying he'll pull away. I thank the lords that I'm not crying anymore. That almost changes as his own arms go around my waist, and he pulls me closer, face pressed into my neck. We stay like that for what seems an eternity, a blissful one. I don't want to move right now, just knowing he's here. But eventually we pull apart, if only a little, and I stare at his face, hands unconsciously forming fists in his clothes to stop him from being able to get away.

"Here, you're here," I whisper, my hands going to his face. He stares down at me, yet to say anything. "How?"

Somewhere a part of me is almost afraid of the answer.

And then, he smiles. And my breath stops altogether, because he is beautiful. More than me, I'm just a plain tomboy, no pretty wavy hair, or nice bright eyes, or a good fashion sense, or an easy smile. How can he have waited here for me, and not for someone like Yuzu?

"Before I answer that question there is something I have to do."

He says it softly. His voice is deeper, much deeper. It's all I can think of for a second then his words make sense in my head. I almost frown; does he have to go somewhere? But I don't, because he's calm and relaxed and he hasn't moved.

"Which is?"

He leans down slowly, watching me, and my breath stops again.

(_Isn't it funny, how much you affect me? Damn asshole, you've made me feel more in the past few minutes than anyone else has in years._)

Our lips touch, for the first time. Before we were... or I was, too young to be interested in kissing. I loved him, and it was strong enough to last all these years, but I never even thought of such touchy-feely actions. The closest we ever came to this was when we would sit together, watching the sunset, or when we would collapse next to each other after hours of playing soccer.

His hands rise to my shoulder blades, and one of mine goes into his hair and I'm damning him with all my heart and mind now, finally, because now I know I'll never be able to let him go. If he leaves again, this time, I won't be able to handle it. I won't survive.

(_I'm so _weak_ when it comes to you. I hate it._)

Gasping for air, I stare at him and think that I had no idea what I was missing.

"I'm staying... with you. I'm staying with you."

He says, hardly seeming to believe it himself, burying his head into my shoulder again. My mouth is open and I can't close it. Then I just crumple in his grip.

And I cry. I cry for everything I lost, everything I just gained, and all that happened in between. I cry angrily for having forgiven him so easily, in shame for having hated him, happily for loving him.

I cry because I can, even though I don't want to be able to.

And it's the best and worst thing he's ever given me.

"I love you, Hitsugaya Tōshirō."

OoOoOoOoO

They're meant to be a bit older in this one. Wow, the end, so dramatic. So... _sappy. _Excuse me while I go and snivel in a corner (about that crying line... ew. I no like. You like? No? Good [I vomited too]. Yes? Eeeh, good also).

Until... err, next time!


	3. Expertise

I really haven't looked at this one in a while... I worked out the kinks. Enjoy!

Summary: Karin and Tōshirō seem to be experts in rather difficult areas... Each other.

Disclaimer: I own nothing...Haven't I said this enough already?

~I~

If there was anything they were experts on, it was each other.

He would always know exactly when her sheer determination and will were the only things keeping her standing.

It was the way her shoulders were stilled forcefully after a second of trembling, the way her fragile-looking but scarred hands (a thing she was proud of, 'I'm not one of those helpless girls who shy away from a bit of pain') would clench, and how she would grit her teeth and blink hard. He could almost read the moving line of letters Karin was seeing with her mind's eye.

'Don't you dare give up. Don't you _dare_.'

He would know when she wanted to cry. Wanted to, but didn't. He once asked her why (after a few minutes of self pep talk, such as: 'she won't rip them off, don't worry!'), and was surprised when she looked down ashamedly and replied, voice wavering ever so slightly, 'I can't. I just ...don't. Does...' She looked up and he understood what she was trying to ask, and he told her that, no, it is not because she is heartless. She had smiled at him, and nodded a thank you before launching one of her surprise attacks, so her soft moment would be forgotten under the weight of her anger and fierce strength, the excitement for battle, for the challenge, that reminded some people far too much of Zaraki.

He would know when she was worried.

The slight crease on her forehead between her eyebrows and the distant eyes were a dead giveaway. But only to him.

He would know when she was depressed, it wasn't by very much and didn't happen often, but there was a trend. A few days out of the year, she would walk slower, talk in a bored voice, move with a slouch and a little scuffing of shoes. This is because she finds she doesn't have the energy to be loud or slightly scary. The times when she was down was when you could see a little of what she was really like, underneath all the blatant tomboyishness. He wondered for a time if she even knew how much of herself she was hiding, but he never asked.

Karin would have, without doubt, punched him for being poetically mushy.

But that would be a normal day, one where she shouts all the time, is competitive to a ridiculous extreme, easy to anger, and furiously indignant if someone points out that she is still a girl, she can't do _that_. If it was one of the bad days, she would look at him and raise an eyebrow, and then shrug and walk away, making a mental memo to stay away until the moment had passed and _he_ was back to normal.

That's because she wouldn't be able to find it in herself to explain, without feeling weak and sentimental.

But even so, it even took him a long time to know all this.

She, on the other hand, could read him like an open book, especially his eyes, a place where so many others had tried and failed.

When angered, there was the barest flash of fury before it was usually concealed, so as not to reveal too much. His movements would be a little jerky and tightly controlled. She knew he would constantly be stopping himself from reaching a hand up to his sword's hilt. His eyes would become cold and hard, indifferent on purpose until the figurative storm had passed. He would unknowingly be glaring harshly as he stalked around, but this was _really_ angry, when even his subordinates knew to stay out of his way.

When sad, there would be an absence in his eyes, he would withdraw into himself, automatically and robotically doing what he would usually do, but like he was day dreaming, noticing nothing around him (like when he would look at the clock, and then someone would ask the time and he wouldn't know the answer). Karin soon figured out that this was exactly what he was doing, he was thinking about it, and letting himself be drowned, secretly, in his sorrow. If someone was about to walk into him, he would step out of their way at the last minute, barely even looking at them (if he did it was frostily, but never angry, even if they dropped a load of paperwork), that is if they hadn't already stepped out of his. He would truly be icy and dispassionate, sometimes to a level where sometimes people would wonder hushedly if he's really a shard of ice.

Whenever she heard someone speculate this, even if they were seriously worried and not joking, she would hit them upside the head and tell them to _shut up right now before you lose a limb_.

He would blink once, slowly, at her and then ask her to calmly stop attacking people.

When happy, the lines of his mouth would soften, he would do everything with a quick but calm, relaxed manner, like that of someone who has something to look forward to, and can't wait. His eyes would shine a little more than usual and there would be the slightest crinkle in the corners. The hand in which he runs his division, an iron fist because that's what it _needs_ to be, would be loosened a little and he wouldn't anger so quickly or easily when, say, his lieutenant skipped out her paperwork. He would let nothing bother him, unless it was something worse than what made him happy.

When nervous, even he would bite the inside of his lip. His gaze would land everywhere as he methodically scanned everything, paranoia overtaking him. He would feel the need to cough constantly, which Karin knew by the discreet and barely discernable gulping. He would drink water rather than tea, and his arms and legs would be tense so as to stop the nervous ticks.

Whenever they revealed that they knew even a little of what the other was feeling, the others would stare at them in shocked awe or shoot furtive glances, asking, 'how do you know that? To me they seem the same as always'. She would twist her eyebrows, raising one and lowering the other, looking at them in the most bewildered manner she was capable of.

"Really? You don't see that Ukitake gave him sweets again, and that he's obviously on a sugar high?"

They would stare at her (whoever knew that he even _ate_ those sweets?) even more until she pointed out the slightly widened eyes, the little jump in the step and the twitches of his fingers. Then they would grin at her.

He, on the other hand, would restrain a snort of amusement before looking at them condescendingly.

"What, you can't tell she's having PMS?"

The males would spit out their sake or choke on their own spit and pale, saying they _really_ did _not_ want to know. The women would start to discuss exactly which of them even got PMS or cramps (causing the men to back away slowly, stricken expressions in place that matched their raised hands).

He would point out that the people she decked went twenty meters instead of the usual ten, the restrained anger in every movement, probably directed at the entirety of the world, and the perpetual scowl. Then they would grin at him too.

Both would lean away slightly, unnerved until they were both told the same thing:

"You're so hooked!"

She would punch them, telling them they're stupid; while he would give them all frostbite.

Meeting each other in Fourth Division she would grin discreetly at him, and he would shake his head and roll his eyes at her. Both would always be wondering exactly when the others would figure it out and ask:

"Hang on, _how_ do you know?"

~I~

Doooone! Yay! Random and of unknown origin... I really have no idea where this came from. Neways, hope you enjoyed! ^^


	4. You Killed Me You Idiot

Another HitsuKarin one-shot. Enjoy!

Summary: Well, the relationship thing was going fine until he killed her.

Warning: infrequent strong language

Disclaimer: I don't own anything of the following.

O.O.O.O

"You're dead."

"No shit Sherlock," Karin grumbles as she brushes off her knees. Then she straightens and places her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes at the peaceful vista.

"This sucks." She says, sighing and beginning to climb down the hill.

The person, Karin doesn't want to think their name as they are the reason she's here, follows her. Karin ignores them.

_Go die in a hole._

_...Asshole._

"How did you die?"

He finally asks, and she stops. Then she turns around slowly and retraces her last few steps. The look in her eye makes him pale and resist backing away just a little bit.

"How did I die? Would you like to know?"

He stays silent, merely nodding quickly. He makes sure to be tense and motionless, because movement would be very stupid right now.

"How did I die..." she pretends to calm and think about it, but he's not fooled and carries on carefully watching and waiting for the inevitable outburst.

"_You pushed me off a goddamn fucking cliff!"_

He winces, knowing better than to say 'it was an accident'.

"Sorry," he blurts, and then he shrinks (cringes) away from her, rapidly realising that was a _big_ mistake.

She leans forward, steam coming from her ears and nose and corners of her eyes and everything. She swallows down the 'sorry doesn't cut it, I'm freaking _dead_!' tangent and sends him a disgusted blood-chilling look before turning and resuming her descent.

After a second, he starts following again. He makes sure to keep a certain distance away.

_Where are we going? Do you know where you're going?_

_... You still mad? How long are you planning on staying this way?_

But he says nothing, lips clamped shut with fear.

Karin scares him shitless on a fundamental level, so yes, let's stay quiet and not rouse the beast.

"You are an idiot," she throws over her shoulder some time later.

He doesn't respond, because he knows she's calming down, and is therefore insulting him to show him she's still annoyed. She hasn't forgiven him yet for his mistake, but she will. Soon. Once she gets over the dead thing and looks on the bright side.

"I mean, how retarded can you be? What moronic thought made you decide to do _that_? Were you using your brain _at all_?"

_No._

_I was using my hormones. Sort of. They're difficult to control._

_Your fault anyway. You hardly help._

"Do you even know what happened? Or were you goofing off?"

_I was trying to save our lives. Or afterlife. Or _whatever_. Point is, I was trying to be helpful._

_Too bad I failed._

_You'll forgive me. Eventually._

"Because otherwise you would have realised what little desire I had to die, by myself, by falling over a cliff, on my sixteenth birthday. Was this some sort of fucked-up present? No, wait, that can't be it. You wouldn't remember my birthday."

_Shut up. Yes I would. I did._

_Sort of._

Okay, now he's getting bored, and he doesn't want to have to meet Matsumoto and have his balls skewered to the wall behind his desk. He starts walking again, and Karin rushes to get ahead of him, just to really annoy him.

"At least have the decency to lead the fucking way, almighty Captain!" She says the second he's behind her.

He makes a sour face inwardly and quickens his pace, stepping in front of her with ease.

Karin looks at him carefully, eyeing the bloodstained and ripped clothes, the red tinted hair, the various scratches she can see on his forearms and face. She sighs silently at the bad one on his neck that's pouring blood down his front.

"You idiot."

She mutters as she tears off some of his captain robe and uses it to bandage the wound, even though she knows Unohana will heal it in a second.

She nearly smiles at the furious look he sends her after he's gotten over the surprise of the gesture.

"You're buying me a new one," he states after a few seconds.

"Oh, sorry, I must've accidently left my money _with my body_, back on Earth."

He winces and sighs, wishing he could just say sorry without her blowing up. Typical Karin, he thinks. When things go her way, everything's fine, no problem whatsoever, but if things don't go her way she's absolutely _livid_.

Even when you've died, things don't really change around here.

O.O.O.O

Slightly different style to the usual. I hope you enjoyed!


	5. Recruitment, You Idiot?

Summary: She hates us. Why? Because the war arrived at her doorstep, and she paid a high price. And now Yamamoto wants me to convince her to fight for us. Dangerous, much?

Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach, just some slightly angsty one-shot plot ideas?

This war has lasted much longer than we thought (hoped) it would. It has lasted years.

Again and again, we think that we have killed Aizen but we haven't. Layers and layers of illusions, and we are just killing copies, while the real traitor stands back and lets us tire ourselves out. Then, still hidden, he steps forward and kills one of us. Just one. It's never anyone important. He has had several chances to kill the Captain Commander himself. Or one of us, a Captain. But no, he takes the lowest ranking officer, which in the beginning meant a lieutenant... Perhaps he is saving us for last. Perhaps he wants us to stand alone, but we dare not. Nor do we dare take only our lieutenants, instead we take seated officers. It takes bravery for that, for someone to willingly go to their death for an unknown cause, so we hold a party in every Division. Every Captain congratulates their subordinate, saying they hope it won't be them.

It sickens me, when I have to do the same. Because it pleases them, getting approval from their Captain. At least we had the honesty to say that there is one chance in thirteen that they are going to die (but they did not say that we are protecting the higher-ups, and maybe things would be very different if they had. I tell every single sacrifice, and they often smile and say that they would happily die for me).

And we have made terrible mistakes. We involved a human. A human with power, with 'dead blood', yes, but he was still only fifteen. Young, but he had already experienced pain.

At least he wasn't a patriot. He died screaming and cursing, telling us that if we have any human left, we would feel guilt.

Because we didn't just kill him (yes, it was us, we were at fault). Oh, no. But before that story, I need to explain our failures.

It started out well, that's the irony. We had minimal casualties when Aizen left. You probably know what happened shortly after that. That's the part we talk about.

We don't tell you, however, about how we had to release our seals in the real world. We don't tell you how Kurosaki Ichigo was the one who left for Hueco Mundo, the one who held his ground and didn't resort to lies and trickery. Traps which failed, plans that didn't work. You see, Aizen knows how we think (how the Captain Commander thinks). If we had sent Captains with Ichigo, along with the two who left against orders as expected, things could have gone better. I asked to be sent, but no. Instead Unohana had to leave, so when we were bleeding, there was no one to heal us.

We did kill the Arrancar, but Aizen was never really there. Tousen and Ichimaru also disappeared. Kurosaki survived, and so did the Reapers we sent. But it was bittersweet.

We could not save Inoue.

Ichigo was wounded, badly. And Inoue helped him back, but after that she turned around and walked back into Hueco Mundo. We branded her traitor, but she was the cleverest of all of us. She saw the furthest ahead. Maybe she was stronger, too, for not fearing to consider the bleak future and the things that would have to be done.

She stayed to execute her plan to destroy what Aizen needed. She pretended to have never left her cell, and who would know? Grimmjow wouldn't say anything, nor would Ulquiorra. And everyone else was afraid of them. Those two subordinates who attacked her, they never said anything either, before you ask. So Inoue waited, being the patient one. She eventually succeeded, but at the cost of her own life. Kurosaki... well, he threw himself into the war with new fervour. He got too involved. The war started having a more permanent effect on the Living World. And Kurosaki finally realised that he would probably not leave it alive. And so, he spent more time with his family.

They found him. The war, the battles, started being dangerously close to his home.

And here, another mistake. We did not ask for help from Kurosaki Isshin. Another Captain-level could have made all the difference. In fact, the second we realised Aizen was a traitor, we should have searched for Urahara, Yoruichi, and the Vizards. The innocents, who knew about Aizen, but were not listened to all those years ago. We should have offered them absolution, a ticket back into Seretei, new Divisions under them, anything to get their help. But we did not (your pride, Yamamoto...). Maybe this would be over, because normally enlisting Vizards would not happen, so Aizen thought we would never do it. He was right, as usual.

One day, there was a battle around Kurosaki's house. We should have known that Aizen did that for a reason. He sent Ichimaru around the back while we were occupied in the air. We were too late to save most.

Isshin died protecting his daughters. Karin, of course, put herself before Yuzu. Ichimaru is cruel.

Yuzu was killed first, causing Karin to explode with reiatsu. That's when we noticed. We will most likely never know what happened to make Karin's suppressed Death God abilities awaken, or how it really happened. But they were strong enough to kill Ichimaru, right from the very beginning, before any training.

We left them alone, the remaining Kurosakis. Ichigo was just out of his teens by then. Karin was sixteen.

But then Ichigo came to us, fire in his eyes still burning. We, desperate as we were, allowed him. He went back to his sister, and trained ferociously.

The battle happened above his house once more.

Ichigo didn't take any chances, telling two of us to help him defend the house, to stop anyone entering or leaving. I was one of them. I didn't argue, if we could save innocent blood from being spilled. Better ours than hers, so much better. The other person who was charged was Byakuya. But he is not loyal to Ichigo, and Yamamoto gave him orders to intervene above if he saw fit (Yamamoto knew I would never move. I pride myself on that). Tousen almost succeeded like Ichimaru had, but Kurosaki... to save Karin (so many braveries, so bittersweet), he would do anything. We won, losing a lower rank officer, as was normal by then. But Kurosaki Karin lost the last of her family in that battle. And she never forgave us for it. She hasn't forgotten or forgiven (hates) Rukia for the beginning, hasn't forgiven (hates) us for the continuation. She will never forgive (hates, hates, _hates_) Aizen for all of it.

And now, I am standing in front of the old Kurosaki clinic, wondering how I am going to convince her to fight for us.

She runs it by herself. She tries to, at least, between studying to be a doctor, training in several martial arts, and looking after the house. If she can, she'll keep her patients alive long enough for the ambulances from the Quincy's hospital to arrive. She usually can, and in any other situation it might be amusing, how she just washes her hands clean from the blood and goes back to doing her essays.

She gets help, but not from us. She refused an offer of protection, but we keep someone close anyway (me). The remains of the 'Living Party', Sado and Ishida, often visit her (Rukia... Well, she is near). She seems to get along with them well, from what I have observed. They sit in silence, watch television, or play a short soccer match outside where she might flash a victorious smile. But they don't go to the movies or any other activity like that, or talk much. If they do, they start talking about things they don't really want to, but they find they have to because it's all they can ever think about.

The one she talks to most is a girl, with short black hair and a nearly constant grieving expression. I managed to extract from an icy Ishida (the irony) that she is Arisawa Tatsuki. She was Inoue's best friend, and a friend of Ichigo's since childhood.

Karin doesn't really talk to anyone but her. No one else feels the same (no one else can). We are now observing Arisawa too, in case she was also affected, or if Karin is now affecting her.

I do not even want to get Karin on our side. I want her to hate us, weirdly amusing as that may sound. At first, I couldn't believe Yamamoto was being so idiotic. Then I realised, with the thought that I am so naïve, that Yamamoto is not making the same mistake again, oh no. He wants her to fight for us, like her brother did, because he does not care if she lives through it or not. If she does die, he'll just find her in Rukongai and use her again (a flaw, we have not found Ichigo yet, and it is possible he is not even there. Nobody knows much about hybrids).

Naturally, he does not expect her to ever agree, but he will push me hard to succeed anyway. And he knows I won't try too hard in the first place.

I still believe that our blood spilled would be better.

She knows I'm here, sitting on the roof of the house opposite her, where I can see through most of the windows. I only came so close during the last few days, but she has always known. She has better sensing skills than Ichigo ever did, and she is more alert, especially in light of recent events.

I'm at a strange angle above her, but I can see her. She's on Ichigo's old bed, stretched out and doing homework. Normally it would already be done, as she sits down straight after coming back. But this time she had victims of a car accident to treat.

She has headphones in, and her legs are moving from side to side.

I am going to let her finish before even trying to attempt convincing her. This is probably a waste of time for both of us, and it's best not to waste time she could be using to do more important things. I rest an elbow on my knee, and pull out my phone to pass the time.

When I next look up, Karin is sitting on her windowsill, watching me silently. I am reminded of the time I explained Hollows to Ichigo, and I feel guilty. I think sadly that usually that is an irrational emotion, but not in my case. I blink at her and glance into her room, spotting her things on her desk. Ridiculous, I was so unaware I didn't even notice the sound of her putting them down. I am getting too secure in the knowledge that Aizen is currently very far away, finding other means to conquer us all. Karin has her head cocked to one side. She stands and retreats, staying standing with her arms loose and her face expressionless in the middle of the room. I carefully stand up and jump down, slowly walking into her room. I look down at her, and decide that sugar-coating is useless.

"He wants you to fight."

And all of a sudden, she is pure fire, filling the room. Red and black, twists and turns. Limitless energy, so much it must be drawing everything from miles around. It is nearly enough to get me on my knees.

"And why would I do that?"

It is somewhere between a low, angry hiss and a loud shout. I don't say anything for a long while, because there is nothing I can, nothing at all to justify this. I cannot turn Ichigo's death to my advantage, try to turn him into a patriot, that would be... pitiful. She knew him better than I did. I will not force her, and nothing I say will give her good reason. She does not feel for others, strangers, as Ichigo did. Not anymore.

"I don't know."

I say finally, and she doesn't seem surprised. Her dark eyes are merely thoughtful, and she nods. The loudness quietens, and she looks to the side.

I leave, knowing Yamamoto will tell me to come back tomorrow.

But for now, that is enough.

On my fourth visit, or wait, or whatever you want to call it, we didn't speak at all. She was busy and I was content to stay where I was, so we did. She didn't even acknowledge me as I left, but I didn't mind. She doesn't have to give me anything. I don't have to pretend that I'm only here on orders, because she knows that anyway. And it's comfortable like this, so I won't change it.

I am waiting patiently, sitting on the roof once more. Karin has already done her homework; there were no patients today. Instead she is cleaning.

And so, I think. And, as usual, Hinamori comes to mind. The sweet, kind girl who was my sister. I think of her often.

"You really like coming here."

It's so sarcastic you could choke on it.

She's leaning against the frame of the open window, arms crossed, not looking at me. Not because of anything like embarrassment, shame or guilt... More like she cannot be bothered to look at something as insignificant as me. She's angry. I can tell.

I did notice this time, but I didn't move anyway.

I don't like that she's angry at me. I am not at fault here. It's stupid, getting angry at her for blaming me (I stayed, don't ever forget that, girl), but it happens anyway. I leap down to crouch on the windowsill, right in front of her.

"Do _not_ make the mistake of confusing what I want with that Yamamoto asks of me."

She looks surprised, this time. Scanning me, she just nods again in acceptance. She does that a lot.

"Do you want to come in? You're nearly there as it is."

My turn now. This is unexpected... I must not tell Yamamoto of this, he will try to use this sudden friendliness for his own ends.

She takes the only seat in the room, the desk chair, so I sit cross-legged on the bed.

"He asked you to protect me, right?"

"Yes."

We were talking, during the battle. She wasn't allowed near the windows, in case of being seen. She stood next to the back door, starting a low conversation. It was mainly her questioning about the War, and my description. She seemed disgusted, with good reason. She did not ask anything about the current battle or why I was there, probably having worked that out. I managed to make her return to the centre of the house, where it was supposedly safer.

It was another horrendous error, this one truly my own. I was not thinking properly, normally I would have seen the benefits of having her close (I sent her away because of fear...). And now, that very same survivor is sitting in silence, seeing things in the air.

"And that other, the snob, he left."

She says wonderingly, and I send her a look, trying to say everything I can without having to say it out loud. Her face twists grotesquely, and I feel like wincing.

"Was Yamamoto behind that, by any chance?"

I nod curtly, and she retreats into seething. After a little while she shakes herself and eyes me curiously.

"Do you guys have to eat?"

It takes me by surprise. I answer cautiously.

"Not in Seretei."

"But when you're here, you do, yeah?"

I nod slowly, and she suddenly stands. She beckons with her hand and leaves the room.

As soon as I walk into the kitchen I notice. The poster of Karin's mother is smaller, as three more have been fitted onto the wall next to it. My eyes slide towards the back door, and I sigh imperceptibly.

"Don't."

It's punctuated with the sound of her placing a heavy looking pot on the stove. I open my mouth, but she seems to know I'm going to say 'How can I not?' She shakes her head.

"Just don't, it's not your fault."

As she says it I comfort myself, with a 'yes, I stayed'. Then I wonder if that's the reason she's being so friendly. Relatively.

"You like pasta?"

"Yes," I reply as I sit down.

"You don't talk much, do you?"

"No."

My mouth quirks up. With her back facing me, I can't see Karin's expression, but I have the feeling she's smiling.

"You did before."

She's curious, because she turns around to look at me properly. I take a few seconds to think. I suppose I did, even if it was to scream at Matsumoto or something (but then again, not really. I've never been like Matsumoto, and the appeal of gossiping is beyond me).

"I'd never been in a war before."

Light dawns in her eyes and she nods, now looking pitying, but still far too pensive for my liking.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"You just did."

An eyebrow twitches, and she looks like she would enjoy hitting me over the head with something quite heavy. Her eyes flick a little to the side but then back again before going anywhere significant, and she's thinking of the pot behind her.

"How old are you?"

I raise my eyebrows, not entirely surprised by that one. Everyone always wants to know, but we don't ask. They do seem to find it okay with me though, like it should be expected, being as I am.

"Counting the time when I was alive?"

She shrugs. "Does it make that much difference?"

"Yes. To look this young, there are few ways. Firstly, the most common. I died of old age, and needed to be an infant or small child when I woke in Soul Society, otherwise I would have died again very soon after I got there."

"Makes sense. And the other?"

"I died very young, or was a stillborn."

She gets a look in her eyes as I say this, and she gets a face saying she would like to scuff her boots or cough. Then she turns around and carries on preparing the pasta.

"So, which one are you? And you still haven't answered my question."

She says gruffly.

"I died very young. I am the youngest Captain in the history of Seretei."

"…How old is Seretei?"

"It was founded by Yamamoto, around two thousand years ago."

"Don't tell me he's Jesus."

She snorts before laughing a little, and I chuckle and shrug, not really caring, but thinking it's improbable, seeing as Yamamoto's a stiff old bastard. Not quite what Jesus was painted to be.

"Where do you go when you die in Soul Society?"

"No one knows. Maybe to another place like Soul Society, maybe that's the end of the line. But it's widely believed that we are reincarnated back onto Earth."

After this there's a long silence. She turns and leans her side against the counter but doesn't face me.

"So could you actually still be considered alive?"

"Yes. I have died, but I am not dead."

"Good for you."

A vein twitches at the sarcasm. A ghost of a smirk lifts up a corner of her mouth as she places my plate in front of me and sits down. I notice her portion is much smaller than mine, and that she does not seem very keen on starting. When she eventually does, her eyes gain an edge as she starts thinking.

"And life could be just one big endless shitty cycle. How lovely."

I only nod and carry on eating. Food in the real world is a poor substitute for the reiatsu particles in Seretei. The more reiatsu you have, the more food you need. Matsumoto needs about the same amount of food everyday as a normal human, but we can go without if we need to. But that makes us dangerously weak. Most Captains don't come to the real world, and if they do, it is never for long. I need well over two times the amount of sustenance as Matsumoto, and I have not eaten for three days. I know that I could have lasted another two and still been able to fight, but any more than that and I would probably lose against anything stronger than an Adjuchas.

"Some think that there is another Society above us."

"What? Above you?"

"The Seven Rings of Hell?" She nods, and light dawns before I finish. "Some think that Soul Society is the First Ring of Heaven. And pessimists believe that it is hell, just well disguised."

"Hmm. And in the Seventh Ring?"

"Angels."

"And God?"

"Supposedly."

Even though she still has a deadpan face, her voice is curious.

"You don't believe in God."

"No," and I look down, away from her, "I don't. If God exists he's not a generous person, is he?"

"No... Definitely not."

I glance up at her sigh, but she's not looking at me anymore. She's stopped eating and is gazing at the distance, head resting on her palm. I finish my meal and leave quietly, letting Kurosaki have some privacy, a thing a person grieving should always have. She noticed, but didn't acknowledge me. I am glad. Things like this always make me uncomfortable.

I don't think she will ever ask about something like that again. I don't think she wants to know.

"Asshole, you never answered my question."

"Am I legally obliged to?"

"No," she grunts, looking annoyed and sending me a glare.

"Nor do I feel morally obliged to, so I won't."

She doesn't say anything. She's looking at me hotly. This does nothing whatsoever and I pretend to be unaware of it.

"Please?"

She asks. I stare at her and wonder how long it's been since she last said _that_. A long time, I judge from the way her eyes are suddenly all over the place and the way her fists are clenched.

I look back down at my food. "I don't know why you really want to know," I say calmly, and leave a space of time just long enough for her to answer, but she stays silent. "But if it's so necessary... I am, including the four years I was alive, seventy-two."

"Four years?" She asks after a long silence that I don't know how to describe, but this time her voice is a little hoarse. "Why did you have to die?"

Why did I have to die? Not the classics 'what did you die from' or 'was it an accident', but _why _did I have to die, as if it's some great injustice. Something unfair, as if it affects her much. As if she cares.

But she misspoke, it's obvious from the way she hurriedly corrects herself.

"I mean, how did you die?"

"Car accident," I reply, and she doesn't move or say anything to show that she's heard me.

"No." She states simply after some time. I place my chopsticks on the bowl and the bowl on the table. I just look at her with one eyebrow raised and the other lowered, finishing my last bite before speaking. For some reason she finds this funny.

And she starts laughing, really laughing. She laughs with her mouth open, tilted upwards, and her eyes nearly closed. Her eyes and face light up. She looks back at me and laughs, laughs even more when my face arranges itself into something bemused. She likes laughing, likes the embodiment of happiness, and I can tell that when it finally dies down she wishes it had carried on longer. She hasn't laughed for a long time. With one last sighing chuckle, she starts talking again, not even out of breath and nothing pointing toward what happened except the lifted corners of her mouth.

"No, you didn't."

"I didn't what?"

I say, and wish I hadn't because the cliché made it so obvious that I'm uncomfortable and trying to avoid answering (or even acknowledging) this next question.

"You didn't die from a car accident."

"And how do you know?"

"I don't know when cars were invented, but it was recently and I hardly think that seventy years ago there would have been enough of them for it to happen, and they wouldn't have been fast enough to kill you, regardless of whether you were inside or outside. The only way a car would have been involved was if you were a passenger and got driven over a cliff or into the sea."

I frown and glare at her, I don't want to go here.

"Fine, I didn't," I say slowly, and she nods. "If you must know, I was beaten to death by my drunk of a father."

Her face gets a previously unseen edge, one of horror.

It doesn't seem right from me to stay here while she's looking at me like that, all horrified and pitying, an thinking and analysing every single thing I've said looking for clues or some effect this has had on me, so I get up. She doesn't move apart from lowering her head in apology when I pass her to leave through the window.

"You remember."

She says it with such hesitance, and she's rubbing her arms with her hands so nervously because she's afraid of screwing things up again, that it's a question.

"Yes. Any more twenty questions?"

"No... I'm sorry." And she looks down, away from me. I shrug.

"Apology accepted."

It's not often you get an apology like that, least of all from her, and especially not to me.

On my eleventh visit, she gave me a kiss on the cheek as I was leaving. I was surprised and it showed.

"What was that for?"

I ask, going for the calm effect but not sure I achieve it. It doesn't matter anyway, I think that she's too flustered to try to concentrate and take in minor details like that.

"A thank-you," she says. And she lets herself blush, if only a little, if only to see what I do and what happens. The red tint to her cheeks makes her so feminine for a second I forget what she's like and all I can see is something beautiful. It's not more beautiful, just different. A sweet and innocent beautiful, like Hinamori or Yuzu was, rather than the hard and harsh non-innocent Karin is.

I put my hands on her cheeks, and she gets a look in her eyes that says she's forgotten what like and love are or how to feel them. Fear. I let some breath escape and kiss her on her forehead. When I pull back, her eyes are closed and her face is peaceful. That is not a bad reaction, so as I remove my hands I let my thumbs brush her warm skin.

After I've left, I wonder what she's thinking. I wonder if she knows that a blushing Karin isn't something special to me at all.

Because her beautiful is better and that is what I see whenever I look at her. That is what I have always seen.

Whoa, finished. I hope you enjoyed! And I hope my asterisks actually show up; ffn seems to have a vendetta against my spacers.

P.S: Don't be confused by the description of Hinamori, I still hate her ;D However, that's not what he would feel, realistically.


	6. She Made You Cookies?

I wrote this ages ago, but only recently found it again and edited it. I totally love it lol, maybe because I don't really see it as mine because I don't remember it at all. So it's like someone else's work to me, which is why I let myself love it haha! Anyways, enjoy!

Warning: infrequent use of strong language ahead

Disclaimer: I still don't own anything.

If Karin had been the sort of girl to cry, that's what she would have been doing.

As it was, she just gritted her teeth and punched the nearest thing in frustration, feeling a twisted satisfaction when something broke under her knuckles and her hand started stinging. It was only a few seconds later she realised that this time she hadn't punched Goat-Face, or one of her guy friends, or even her wall. Nope, she'd just punched Hitsugaya Tōshirō.

And by the looks of things, broken his nose.

It took her another few seconds to react to the blood pouring down his face and onto his Shinigami robes as he stood up slowly. She sighed and moved behind him, ignoring his grunt of pain when she grabbed his nose and moved it back into place. She'd been able to perfectly ignore his loud stream of constant curses so far, so that was easy.

"Sorry," She said gruffly, taking his hand (and gripping onto it so hard he winced) and dragging him towards Division 4. "Unohana-san will heal that properly for you." This time she was mumbling, and Tōshirō knew it was because she was slightly ashamed of what she'd done but still far too angry to apologise. He was well aware she was clenching her fist hard so as not to hit anything else, lest the next person be less forgiving (or perhaps understanding... or just plain used to it) of her explosive temper.

Tōshirō silently tried to staunch the bleeding and followed her lead, coming into step with her and not batting an eyelid at the looks. He nearly winced when Byakuya sent him a derisive glance and swept on his way, but he didn't say anything. He grumbled mentally but made sure his facial expression was blank. The very last thing Karin needed was to be provoked.

Of course, the best way to get her to calm down was to fight her, which made the trip to Unohana's pointless as he would gain more injuries afterwards. But, of course, Karin being so difficult, if he didn't allow her to take him, then she would blow up. Again.

And god help him if he repeated the mistake of pointing out to her that they should fight _then _go to Unohana. He would be beaten into the ground (literally, naturally) and then taken to Unohana's. But Karin would see mentioning the illogical order of events as not being treated so nicely, and then he would get the cold shoulder for at least two days. Unless he apologised. But if there was one thing Hitsugaya Tōshirō hated, it was apologising when he felt he didnt need to. So, it was best to avoid that at all costs.

He nearly smiled when he realised how far he had come in understanding the impossible girl next to him, but he didn't. He needed to look in pain and suffering and bloody. Then she would be apologetic in her own rather special way and he would get the nicest attitude towards him. In fact, she behaved almost like a normal girlfriend when she felt guilty. Once she even made him cookies. Of course, Tōshirō didn't let this get to him. He had merely commented on their burnt state and in return received a quick jab towards his solar plexus.

If anyone could say that love hurts, it was Hitsugaya Tōshirō.

"Stupid... _stupid_... why I... damn him... so _idiotic_... limb from limb! That little... ugh! I hope he rots in hell! ...Bastard! If he doesn't die soon I'll do it myself! Stupid fucker!"

Her muttering had escalated into just plain ranting. Tōshirō neglected to point this out to her.

She noticed anyway and froze, quickly glancing around to see if the person she was ranting about was in distance. When she confirmed that he wasn't, she turned and quickly hit Tōshirō upside the head.

"You could have told me!"

He grimaced and added 'Headache' to his list of pains, and 'Head' to his list of places he had bruises.

"Why? This is the only entertainment I've had all day." He replied, managing to dodge the sideways kick and send her a look to let her know he was joking. "I was a bit preoccupied with the blood." He said curtly and quickened his pace.

Sometimes, the only way to stop her from getting angrier at everything was to make her feel guilty. It wasn't the nicest thing to do but he could always make up for it later.

And it made her shut up.

Making noises that sounded suspiciously like ranting under her breath she took his hand again and started leading him, albeit slower and not as forceful.

Once they got there and an officer merely raised an eyebrow as if to say 'You two again? Hitsugaya-Taichou injured? _What _a surprise...' and ushered them into a room. Tōshirō was asked nicely to sit on the bed and more insistently when he refused and stood there with his arms crossed. Karin replaced his hands with her own to stop the blood flowing freely and then used them to push him down.

"If I have to sit on you to keep you here, I will." She stated flatly and with narrowed eyes.

Tōshirō smirked slightly with lips covered in dried blood and shrugged. His look gained a mischievous edge and Karin knew what it meant. 'Well then... you had better sit on me'.

So she did. Tōshirō seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her chosen position (her knees either side of him) and pulls her a bit closer, placing his hands very low on her back. The lowest he could without getting hit for feeling her up.

"Look woman, just hurry up before he gets horny!"

Karin turned round and snapped to the poor blushing female, who squeaked and jumped forward. Karin looked at the injured captain over the bowed brunette head. Giving him an evil look that plainly said 'I know you're enjoying this you bastard' he only responded with a smirk. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fist, telling herself not to hit him.

Yet.

Well, I hope you all enjoyed :3 I've missed writing HitsuKarin so much! Was good to get some of the fluff (albeit slightly different fluff) from the plot bunnies out of my head.

Review or I shall think you are as lazy as me! xD

…Nah, me joke! Xiao my friends.

P.S: I don't remember exactly why she was upset, but I think real hard I get this vague feeling of 'Kurosaki Ichigo is gunna dieeeeeee!' xD


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